Gurn, who lent her a shovel to plant her plumrose bushes.
Gurn, who fell into despair after the death of his wife but let Orelia bring him strawberry scones when she could afford to make them.
The farmer didn’t hear the danger creeping closer as the fae slipped up behind him and ran his greatsword through his back. When Vade yanked his bloody blade free, Gurn slumped out of view.
Orelia fell to her knees and sobbed. The grasses closed in around her, clawing at her shoulders, shrouding her with their density.
Her kind, widowed neighbor was far undeserving of the fate life had just dealt him.Not life, she thought. Death. Death in the form of the monster she was bound to, whose shadows kept their hold. Tears slid down her cheeks and disappeared into the tendril latched around her face.
Vade returned, face placid like he hadn’t just ended the life of a man he didn’t even know. He squatted in front of her, and Orelia whimpered when he held up the tip of Gurn’s bloody finger. He pulled out the tracking stone, then freed a paring knife from a pocket in the chest of his leathers.
After a prick of the pad of his pinky finger, Vade pressed it on the middle of the stone. The top retracted and he placed Gurn’s finger inside. The thin layer of obsidian slid back, and when the stone was whole again, white light pulsed within.Seidr light.
Orelia shuddered, unable to do anything more. She thought perhaps he had stolen a blade from a sorcerer, but somehow he was able to conjure the illegal light, though she didn’t know how. Sorcerers were a race of their own, and Vade was a fae.
He put away the knife, and the shadows released.
Suddenly free, Orelia jumped up and quickly put some distance between them. “Sorcerer!”
Not only was he a monster, but he was the worst kind. Sorcerers nearly destroyed the entire continent during The White War a hundred years ago.
“I’m not a sorcerer, but one did make this stone for me.” Vade pointed at his back, grinning. “He made these beautiful weapons, too.”
“Does King Aradonis know you use illegal weapons?”
He tossed her a knowing look.
She scoffed. She’d thought Aradonis to be a good, morally sound king, according to tavern gossip. Apparently not.
“Why in the hells did you do that?” she asked, her words scathing. “Gurn didn’t do anything to you!”
Vade rose and dusted off his hands. “I told you. I’m an executioner. It’s what I do.”
She threw her arms up. “You owe me more of an explanation than that!”
He sighed like her questions were unnecessary. “When Aradonis needs someone disposed of, I do the disposing. A sorcerer made the tracking stone, and the light is confirmation that the person who the finger belonged to is indeed the person whose name was sent to me.”
White light pulsed inside again, fading as the face retracted oncemore. Vade plucked out five large gold coins, put them in the purse attached to his belt, and grinned. “That’s my favorite part.”
She’d only ever seen silver coins but knew a gold piece of the same size was worth twice as much. But the size of the coins he earned . . .she couldn’t begin to fathom how much they were worth. “You must be—”
“Filthy fucking rich?” His grin widened. “I am.” Vade put the obsidian in his pocket and headed back toward the tree line, shoulders back and chin high.The asshole was proud.
Orelia begrudgingly trailed after him, sneering at the greatsword. “So, you’re just going to keep killing people while we’re traveling?”
“Now you’re catching on,” he said over his shoulder. When they made it back, Vade grabbed his pack and slung it over his shoulders. He pulled a daydial from his other pocket, lifted the gnomon out of the middle, and faced north.
Orelia had a similar dial with the head of a dragon marking the symbol of Nivinia—the most bountiful type of daydial available for purchase. Vade’s had the head of a horse. Kevarian. Her imagination thought of plenty unsettling ideas as to how he’d obtained one.
He looked at where the line of shadow cast from the gnomon landed on the circular time teller. “We won’t make it to Dallton before nightfall, so we’ll walk for a few marks, then make camp.”
“I’m not sharing a fire with you tonight, you murderer!” Orelia stormed off, not knowing where she was headed, but needing to get as far away from him as the binding spell would allow.
He grabbed her arm and spun her around. “You can choose to follow quietly, or I can have my shadows drag you the entire way. Take your pick.”
She yanked her arm free. “You disgust me.”
“You’ll get over it. Besides, it’s not like you have to worry about me killing you. I can’t, remember? No matter how much I’d like to.” His lips curled in warning.
